More than meets the eye
by Aya Williams
Summary: Noah judged everyone at a glance. So he wasn't expecting Trent to be anything more than a stereotypical love interest type of guy...and he is but there's more to him than that. Trent/Noah.


Sixteen year old Noah was a judgemental person. He felt he could tell at a glance everything he needed to know about them. For a while this was true. A single glance was enough to tell him Heather was a self entitled queen bee. It was enough to tell him Justin was a shallow vapid narcissist. That Lindsey was the very definition of a dumb blonde, despite her hair being dyed.

Sometimes it didn't even take a glance. Duncan was so desperate to let everyone know how much of a bad boy he was that Noah had known all he cared to before he'd even seen the punk. The same held true for Courtney. The A type was so open with her opinion that you'd have to try to not know about her. Then there were the people like Geoff whose reputation alone was enough to make want to stay as far away as possible.

When he'd first arrived Noah had assumed the same of him. Long black locks, eyes of a green so pure he had to be part cat, disarming smile, and a guitar. One look was enough to tell Noah he was the most typical love interest he'd ever met. The guy couldn't be more cliché if he tried.

This was all he thought of Trent for months. He'd already made his judgement of the guitarist and he had no desire to look into him further. What was there to know? He practically had generic high school dreamboat tattooed to hIs forehead.

Then one day during English lit, they were assigned a report together. Noah didn't really mind. Sure he thought the guitarist was boring, but when he considered Lindsay and Dawn were also in this class? Yeah he'd take Trent.

It was during the discussion on what poem to do the report on that Trent had first surprised him. He'd been expecting all the guitarist's suggestions to be overwhelmingly saccharine. Many of them were, but it was not long before Trent mentioned a poem he didn't expect.

"What about Lenore?" He had asked. The question had taken Noah aback. It was a dark poem about love and loss. Sure it was about love, but not in that cheesy overly happy way he'd been expecting.

"One of Poe's works?" He'd responded quirking an eyebrow. "You don't seem the type." He had concluded, letting the unspoken question linger in the air.

"Usually I'm not, but there's just something about that poem which speaks to me." The guitarist had answered.

They had written their report and turned it in. Somehow they had begun talking. Noah didn't know why, maybe Trent was just a good listener, but he found himself more talkative than usual. Trent told him he liked corny B movies and the number nine. He liked the works of Jane Austen, a fact Noah made sure to tease him about as he was proving to be a helpless romantic. In exchange, Noah told him about his dog, about his love for Winston Churchill, video games, and how much he hated the way Hollywood changed literature to appeal to a larger audience.

Before Noah knew it the bell had rung. It was as though some spell had been broken with that noise. Noah realized just how much of his personal life he'd revealed. The guitarist had simply smiled and said. "We should do this again sometime."

It about two weeks later that he'd run into Trent at the library. The introvert he was, he had tried to hide his face within the book he'd been reading. Unfortunately the guitarist had already seen him.

"Hey," he'd greeted him. Noah had raised a brow still holding his book. Of course he was not one to give up so easily, as he sat down next to the bookworm. After about five minutes Noah had figured he'd wasn't leaving and closed his book, making sure to sigh dramatically.

"What do you want?" He'd asked not particularly caring to be polite.

"I don't have anything to do this afternoon. You wanna hang?" Trent had offered. Noah had opened his mouth to decline, but there was something in his earnest eyes that caused him to agree.

The two had gone to an internet café, where Trent had patiently waited as Noah meticulously explained the inner workings of each class within his favorite MOBA. Noah had never had the chance to tell anyone this, as most people lost interest well before he'd finished. It was then that Trent asked if they could do this every week. Noah found he was more than happy to oblige.

Weeks became months, as Noah grew to know the guitarist: His deep fear of mimes, his mild obsession with the number nine, the fact that he was willing to do whatever he had to, to protect those he cared about. The more he learned more he liked Trent until eventually he came to the conclusion he might like Trent as more than a friend.

Not that it mattered. Noah was pretty sure the guy was straight. He'd never actually asked him but statically speaking it was more likely. Noah decided to keep his feelings to himself. After all if he never asked, he'd never be rejected.

Trent had picked up the game in their time together and the two often played. During one of their sessions they were attacked by a high level horde. The battle had been fierce with Trent only surviving because of Noah's surplus of options, and he because Trent was a healer. In the end,they prevailed.

Trent gave him a fist bump in celebration. Then the two stood there neither sure why they had yet to return to their seats. There was something in the silence that rang with anticipation. Then Trent's lips met his.

The kiss was everything he'd thought it would be. It was warm sincere and passionate. Just like the person he shared it with. As they drew apart Noah breathlessly said. "I thought you were straight."

A teasing grin lit up the guitarist's face. "Oh Noah, after all this time you should know better than to judge without asking."

A/N: might have rushed the ending. other than that I'm pleased.


End file.
